


Be The One

by annalikestotalk



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Kiss, Hangover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 13:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10492017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annalikestotalk/pseuds/annalikestotalk
Summary: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a future where Nursey and Dex got Ransom and Holster's Dibs.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Derek opens his eyes and immediately slams them shut when the pounding in his head increases. Even closed, the light streaming in through the uncovered window is an assault on his eyes. He turns his head into the pillow.

“Alright, scratch that. Is there a reason you’re naked and _hungover_ in my bed?” Derek can just about process that it’s Dex’s voice talking to him, but he hurts too much to focus on anything past that. He tries to open his eyes again, and moans pitifully before giving up.

There’s a sigh from somewhere above him, and then footsteps away and out of the attic. He assumes that Dex has given up on getting an answer and decided to let him sleep, and he’d be grateful if sleep even seemed like an option with the pain racing around his body. He shifts and lets out a small, undignified noise, before pulling the covers up from his hips and all the way over his head. They feel softer than usual, and he’s thankful.

There’s a sound like the door opening again, and even that tiny noise is enough to make his head light up with pain. He groans again and there’s a noise of sympathy from whoever’s just walked in. Derek is thankful, except then whoever it is is tugging at his blanket and he’s decidedly less thankful, but he’s not exactly in a state to be telling whoever this is exactly what he thinks of them. He expects the light to be painful against his eyes again, but there’s no attack on his closed eyelids, and he cautiously squints them open. It still hurts, but someone has blessedly pulled the blinds, and the darkness is cool and refreshing against his pained eyeballs.

Speaking of someone, the familiar face of his roommate is currently leaning over him with an unfamiliar look on it. He looks soft, sympathetic and almost fond. Derek thinks the hangover must be making him see things and he focuses instead on the glass of water and painkillers that Dex is holding out to him. He crouches and holds them out and Derek grabs the water like he’s about to die of thirst and goes to chug it, but suddenly Dex’s hand is circling his wrist and holding it still.

“Slowly, Nurse.” He warns. “If you chug that and throw up, I won’t be the one to clean it.”

Derek nods and slowly raises it to his lips, forcing himself to take three slow sips. He glances back to Dex, who gives him a soft smile and two painkillers, and Derek isn’t sure which he’s more thankful for. He swallows them with two more sips of water, then gingerly hands the glass back to Dex and lies back down. Dex stands and Derek’s hand lifts slightly, as if he’s going to reach for him, before flopping back down on the bed next to him. Dex smiles that soft smile again.

“Go to sleep, Nurse. I’m not going anywhere.”

Derek closes his eyes and quickly slips into unconsciousness.

He’s pretty sure that just before he falls asleep Dex slides a hand through his hair, but he’s going to assume that’s another hangover-induced hallucination.

-

When he wakes again, the headache has all but disappeared, replaced by a fragility that warns him not to make any sudden movements any time soon. He lets out a quiet groan, lifting his hand to rub at his eyes, and hears the sound of one of the chairs by the desk being turned around. When he lifts his hand he sees Dex looking at him, softly lit by the desk lamp, elbows resting on his knees and lips quirked into something halfway between a smile and a smirk.

“Feeling better?” He asks, and Derek almost nods before remembering the warning his body’s giving him.

“Mm.” He grunts. Forming words seems like a big task right now, but he figures he should probably try. He opens his mouth, but Dex interrupts before he can say anything.

“I refilled your water.” He gestures to the floor by the bed and Derek looks down to see the glass, full to the brim, and gratefully picks it up, swallowing quickly but stopping himself from draining the whole thing in seconds like he wants to.

“Thanks.” He sets the glass back down on the floor next to him and turns back to Dex, before he realises that something about that is off. Why is that –

Oh.

He has the top bunk.

Dex is definitely smirking at him now as the realisation spreads across Derek’s face. He’s in Dex’s bed. And what was it Dex had said before? ‘Is there a reason you’re…’

Derek peeks under the covers and blanches. He looks at Dex, panicked, and Dex’s smirk cracks a little.

“I’m… Oh my god.” He whispers, and it seems that’s all Dex can take because he busts out laughing. He’s leaning over in his chair, shoulders shaking, and Derek would like to be offended, but honestly, it’s not every day that he sees Dex laugh like this, so free and uninhibited. It’s kind of infectious.

“Don’t laugh at me!” He complains, chuckling. The movement jars his head a little, but it’s such a nice feeling that he doesn’t care. “I was drunk!”

“I know.” Dex smiles as the laughter fades. “There were a few clues that pointed that way.” Derek huffs.

“You’re definitely back.”  
“Aw, was it too quiet without me?” Dex is joking, but the honest answer is that, yes, it had been.

“You wish. How’s Maine?”

“The state of Maine is fine.” Replies Dex, leaning back in his chair.

“And the rest of the brood?” Derek asks, another smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“My family is also fine. My mom asked how you were doing.“

“And you said?”

“That you were no more of a disaster than the last time she saw you.” Derek sighs. He’d like to argue, but even he can’t deny that he is a mess of a person.  “So. You feel  like talking about whatever it was that inspired you to get drunk enough to pull out your Shitty impersonation?”

No. No, Derek does not feel like talking about it. Mostly because he doesn’t want to tell Dex that Chowder and Farmer felt so sorry for him and his pining ass that they spent the night getting hammered with him so that he wouldn’t have to think about it. He’d rather not tell Dex that.

He still has _some_ dignity.

“You know what Caitlin’s like when she gets an idea in her head.” He waves his hand dismissively. “She decided she wanted to get drunk and dragged me and Chowder along for the ride.”

Dex is looking at him with appraising eyes, and Derek is beginning to get nervous. His hand rubs along the back of his neck, and he’s desperately trying to avoid Dex’s eyes without _looking_ like he’s avoiding them. Sometimes he feels like those eyes see right through him.

“You sure man? I haven’t seen you that hungover since the last epikegster. You know if you’re having problems, there are healthier ways to deal with them.” He pauses for a second, frowning like he’s debating with himself on whether or not he wants to say something. “You can always talk to me. You know that, right?”

He does. It’s part of the problem.

The thing is that when they were fighting, he knew where he stood with Dex. He understood the way they worked. But now they’re something like friends, and not just friends, roommates, partners on the ice. There’s talking and camaraderie and casual touches. Sometimes they’ll be working perfectly in sync and Nursey will fuck up because he suddenly realises how easy it is to be with Dex now. He doesn’t know how to navigate the minefield that is his feelings for William Poindexter.

“Yeah, man. I know. Um… I should probably get dressed.” Dex’s eyes drift down to where Nursey’s torso is exposed, then snap back up to his eyes.

“Well. If you must.” There’s something playful to his tone, but his cheeks are slowly becoming pinker. It can be hard to tell whether Dex is blushing or if it’s just his complexion sometimes, but Derek is willing to bet that this isn’t just his red headedness kicking in.

“I, um, okay?” He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, expecting Dex to turn away so that Derek can throw some clothes on.

But Dex doesn’t turn around. He leans back and puts his hands behind his head and smirks, even through the blush that’s become more red than pink. Derek can’t help his gaze straying to the way Dex’s biceps bulge when he holds them like that, or the slight lift of his shirt and the hint of skin beneath it, but he averts his gaze quickly. He pulls the blanket around him and stumbles over to the dresser, quickly pulling on boxers and a t shirt. He considers pants, but dismisses the thought as quickly as it forms.

He can feel Dex’s eyes on him even before he drops the blanket and turns around. He hasn’t moved from his spot in the chair, and as their eyes meet, Derek feels almost frozen. There’s something charged about the air between them, something heavy in the way Dex’s tongue flicks out nervously to wet his lips. Derek follows that tongue with his eyes, and finds he can’t move his eyes from that mouth. It’s almost a peripheral thing, the way he sees Dex drop his arms and stand. There’s only a few steps between them, and it takes no more than a few seconds for Dex to cross that expanse.

Derek tears his gaze from Dex’s lips and meets his eyes again, and there’s something there, underneath the nervousness, the uncertainty. He can’t put a name to it, but it makes him shiver.

“Nurse.” Dex whispers, then frowns slightly. “Derek.” Derek thinks he might have made a sound, but he can’t focus on anything other than Dex right now. His whole world has narrowed to the man in front of him, and if you asked him what was happening he probably couldn’t tell you, but he finds himself really hoping it doesn’t stop.

“Will.” He whispers back, and Dex doesn’t look unsure anymore. Dex looks determined. Dex looks _hungry_.

Dex raises his hands to cup Derek’s face, and they’re so warm against his skin, somehow soft and calloused at the same time, and it’s the perfect oxymoron. On anyone else it might be strange, but on him it’s not. It’s Dex, after all.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, soft despite the fire in his eyes, and Derek definitely made some kind of undignified noise there, and he can barely focus enough to nod, but then he’s leaning in, and Dex is leaning in, and they’re going to do this, he can feel Dex’s breath on his skin, they’re going to-

Kiss.

They’re kissing.

Dex’s lips are pressed against his, and it’s so gentle, everything about Dex so soft, holding him like he’s glass, like he’s scared of shattering him. Derek feels like his chest is shattering anyway, like everything in him is exploding outwards and collapsing inwards, hot and cold, infinite and ending.

The perfect oxymoron.

Then Dex is pulling back, and it wasn’t a harsh kiss, or a long one, but Derek is panting, can’t seem to catch his breath, and Dex seems to be the same. His mouth falls open and he’s staring, he knows he is, but Dex is so beautiful, so perfect and he just _kissed_ him. Dex opens his mouth to speak, and Derek is focused, intent on hearing whatever it is, it must be monumental to follow something like that, and he wants to hear it, has to –

“Your breath smells awful, Nurse. I’m never kissing you when you’re hungover again.”

Derek comes back to himself in one sudden breath, and he can’t help it, he’s laughing and leaning into Dex, and Dex is laughing too. They’re both shaking and holding onto each other, and Derek feels kind of silly for thinking this could go any other way. This isn’t some monumental, profound, world-changing thing.

It’s just two boys with crushes on each other sharing their first kiss in their bedroom.

It’s perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly live for hopelessly pining Nursey. I really need to write something longer with that.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: annalikestotalk


End file.
